the answer to a question
by mr.bananasham
Summary: the first chapter to a story I am writing about the question, a character from the dc universe.
1. Chapter 1

**The answer to a question**

**Chapter one: Inevitable end to a beginning.**

The ground wet with fresh rainfall, the sound of the wind as it blows by the trees. These sounds go unheard in a place like this. The city. People are absorbed by their phones, a cacophony of lights and sounds. They are oblivious to the world around them. This would be their downfall. I turn into an alley, I see a women getting mugged, how cliché, when a figure drops from the shadows to grab her attacker, and in a moment the women is alone with her purse. The batman. Wonderful, as if I need another ass-hole like me around. I watch events unfold, and intervene only when absolutely needed. This was a moment where I was not needed. "Too many supes around" I say to myself, walking in a crowd. I know what the outcome will be with all of these heroes around, hell I know every outcome. The world is like my web, and every event is a vibration. I am unknown to the world, and that's how I like it, probably the biggest difference between most others and I. I like to observe the world from a quiet stance.

My footsteps lead me to the news station; do I have anything to report on? Let's see. I push open the door to the building. My mind wanders over a thousand theories and speculations that I have, all of which are true, but yet to be proven. It's been a slow week. My coat is drenched in rain; I had yet to notice this. I guess I don't notice what happens to me, too preoccupied with the surrounding environment. People come rushing up to me, "Victor, you're on in twenty minutes, where have you been?"

"I've been out, viewing the city, getting a hold on things." I say

"Get him to make up, we need him ready." A man with glasses in front of me says. God this medium for information has changed, not many people care to know what's happening on TV anymore. There is too much noise in the world; I would have more luck becoming an anonymous source on the internet.

They rush me toward my seat in front of the cameras, "I don't have a story" I say

"make one up" I hear from beyond the blinding lights, "you're on in five… four… three…" he finishes by putting up two and one in the air. I've made my decision.

"Good evening avid watchers, I'm sure you're asking yourselves what I could be reporting on now, except there aren't many of you, are there. TV is becoming a taboo, when so many people are on their phones, and computers, machines made to distract us. Though TV was made for the same purpose, the number of hours a person spends watching it has decreased, and maybe that's a good thing. This station has changed significantly in the past 10 years, my fellow anchors have gone, and the producer is a much younger man. So I have decided my own future in the haze of all of this change, I have decided to resign." Eyes widen, and murmurs are heard in the background, "so to those of you who still listen, and watch this show, be wary of the world, trust nothing, and no one. This is Victor sage, signing off, for the final time, goodnight." I stand and exit the room.

I am followed by miscellaneous crew, including the producer, who proceeds to say, "You can't quit Victor."

"I believe I just did" I say without stopping.

"But you had the highest ratings on this channel, what are we going to do now?"

"Not my decision" I respond.

I exit the building grabbing my hat and coat, as they all stop at the door. It has begun to rain again, is this a coincidence, a sign? Maybe, but I decide not to dwell on it, probably my biggest mistake. I am becoming too old it seems. I make it about five or six blocks and am soaked, my visions blurs for a second, my head becomes fuzzy. I lean against a wall. A sedative synthesized for skin absorption, how clever. Three men step out from the next alleyway, now I realize my mistake. I look at my options; maybe I could make it up the fire escape. No, in my condition I would likely just cause more harm to myself. In my normal state these thugs would be no problem, but I'm more than a bit out of sorts. Before I have time to come up with a plan, one of the thugs approach, he cocks back his fist, maximum damage intended. I anticipate where it will land, and narrowly dodge the blow, though I lose sight of the other thugs, and one hits me in the stomach. I let air out of my lungs harshly, I can feel I don't have much time; this drug is beginning to take hold of my motor skills. I roll out of the way of the way of the last mans blow, and sprint for the street, I may be seen as a vigilante, but they wouldn't try anything there, I'm sure they've been instructed not to make a scene.

I'm almost sure of their intent at this point, and have deduced who they are working for, it was simple, and every villain has their trademark. I make it to the streets and rush into a crowd. I begin to think that this sedative was intended for another, it is taking effect much quicker than one made for someone of my height and weight. I black out for a second, my vision returns just before hitting the ground and I catch myself. I get up and run. I look at the buildings for a place to turn, a coffee shop; I look back and see the men looking for me in the crowd. I have to hurry. I run into the coffee shop looking for the restrooms, and run into them. I open the window, then pull my trench coat off and fedora, also pulling my mask off in the process. I toss them out of the window, and sit in a stall. The men run in a few second later.

"Damn it!" one says, he has a gruff voice, a smoker.

"Look he went out the window, his stuff is right there." Another says, he sounds younger, probably the newest of this group.

The third one finally begins to chime in, "No, that would be too easy, he is probably still here, somewhere. You two check out there, I'll look in here."

The other two men run out of the room, and the last man begins to knock over stalls, I have to think quickly, but I can't think my body has reached its limit. I must use my last resort, a beacon the league gave me. It works kind of like a pill, once it hits the stomach it activates. The stall next to me opens. I swallow it, right before the man bursts into my stall.

"Well ain't this a surprise." The man said before I black out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two: loaded question**

I awaken in a lab of some sort with a cage around me, maybe a modern torture chamber. Electricity can be heard buzzing throughout the room. It's obvious what kind of nefarious torture method is utilized here. My body has been strapped down, my clothes removed. The thug that found me walks out of a doorway.

"You know, you are a hard man to find." I stay quiet. "Well I guess celebrities like their privacy. Alright doc, he's all yours" he leaves the room.

A man in a lab coat walks in, "my, my, what an interesting specimen, I may have some fun dissecting your brain when this is all over" he smiles at me eerily, though he could have done better than a cliché as idiotic as that. He pulls out some sort of handheld scanner, I do nothing. "Already submissive? Well that's no fun. OH! It seems that you have some sort of technology inside of you, a beacon maybe? Well let's take care of that." He pulls down a telsa coil, and walks behind the fence. "How about we start at 70 milliamperes?" an electric current hits my body, and agony; I can't help but scream. The stream lasts for about 20 seconds. It ends and I suddenly have trouble breathing. I pant then begin to laugh, "What is it?" the doctor says calmly.

"It's just; you seem to assume this is the first time I've been through this sort of thing." I continue laughing, obviously unnerving the doctor.

He looks at me then says, "I guess we'll have to make this special then." He turns the amperage up, probably at 100 now. The bolt hits me and I scream, the doctor becomes preoccupied with the console, now is my chance. I dislodge my shoulder, and slip out of my binds, and stand up stiffly, still being hit by the current. The pain is almost unbearable, but I sprint at the gate to this fence and burst through, allowing the electric current to sufficiently destroy the equipment, and it stops suddenly. I get up slowly as the doctor is rushing at me with a scalpel. I go left, he hits my right shoulder, but I have his right arm, I ignore that pain and push until I hear a cracking noise come from him as he screams. The thug runs back in. This time he is brandishing a pistol, he fires once and it misses my head by millimeters, slightly tearing the skin. I pull out the scalpel from my shoulder, and throw it at the thug hitting his arm with the gun. He drops it and I rush at him, knocking him into the machinery behind him. He lands a blow on my face as I put him in a submission hold. I am no longer impeded he stands no chance. He passes out right before I hear a gunshot. He hit the man I am holding, I'm lucky, he isn't. I throw the man at the doctor, and he fires off a couple more shots. He is knocked over and drops the pistol, I walk over to the doctor and pick him up by the neck.

"You are going to tell me what I wish to know, is that clear?" I say, he nods vigorously. I walk him over to the chamber I was in, and strap him down.

"I told you I would talk!" he says.

"Call it a precaution." I say flatly, "You weren't after me were you?"

"No." he says

"Then why take me, I am after all only second string."

"It wasn't about you; it was about your knowledge."

"My knowledge of what?"

"I can't say."

"Hmmm… of Cadmus?" I ask.

"No, Cadmus is old news; they had been informed you knew something bigger, we couldn't take the chance."

"What then could I have known?"

"I can't say, they'll punish me if I do, I won't even exist anymore." I'm getting closer to an answer I didn't even ask a question about; maybe I should follow that lead.

"What do you mean you won't exist, nothing could just pluck you from existence?"

"You don't know their power, they can make galaxies disappear. I'm an ant, less than that in their eyes. My existence is circumstantial to them, I have to be useful. They can change the fabric of reality."

"Reality in itself is circumstantial though isn't it?"

"You don't understand, their power is immeasurable, they have already made changes to this universe, can't you see the connections? They are the puppet masters of the human race. Even the justice league can't win this fight, it has already been decided. They are gods."

"Power does not a god make; I've fought alongside some proclaimed gods. They are arrogant, easily brought down by their own overinflated egos."

"You cannot win, their victory is inevitable."

"How cliché, a servant loyal to his masters."

"And what are you loyal to Question, or should I call you Victor now?" he cackles

"You know vanity is the worst sin man has ever been guilty of, try not to gorge yourself on it." I walk out of the room, stepping over the body of the man who caught me, an unfortunate loss.

I exit the building, a small abandoned shack. Walking outside I remember the wound in my shoulder, I look over and blood has stained my whole right side. It drips from my glove, I stare at the puddle it is slowly making, seeing it makes my body react faster to the blood loss. I become woozy and my vision blurs. I can say only a few words, "watchtower, emergency pickup." And then I black out.


End file.
